Stay
by Amy L. M
Summary: In 1945, the Battle of Berlin reaches its end. The city has nearly been demolished and Ludwig is left surrounded by the pieces. Feliciano is desperate to find him and make things right again, despite everything that has happened between them as a result of the war.


**Human names are used.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia in any way, all rights to Hidekaz Himaruya.**

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It hurt to breathe. Thick clouds of smoke filled the air, blocked out the sky and the sunlight. Feliciano choked on the bitter smell, coughs racking his body and when he lowered his hand, small spots of blood stained his skin. He covered his face with the dirtied sleeve of his uniform and continued running through what was once a beautiful landscape. Now, it was nothing but a pile of rubble and ash. Buildings that had once lined streets now lay completely demolished.

The smoke hung like a veil over the city.

Feliciano squinted, eyes burning and he desperately fought back the tears continuing to build up. There was no time for crying, not now, not when he needed to find Ludwig. The war was _finally _ending, though not before leaving behind death and destruction and pain. He had watched people die, innocent lives ended far too soon, seen families ripped apart. And for what? What good did war ever bring? He coughed again and winced at the pain in his chest, his lungs burning. Another bomb blast sounded nearby, shaking the earth from its force.

He stumbled somewhat over bits of rubble, glass crunching underneath his boots. This was not the Berlin that Feliciano knew, the city where he had spent so many days with Ludwig, the place which held so many precious memories. This was hell on earth. He couldn't even begin to imagine the condition that Ludwig was in, his city in ruins, his country left in tatters. He had to find him. Feliciano ignored the crackling and spitting of gunfire, the deafening bombs and the rumbling of the tanks roaring across the land.

With each frantic step, he passed more and more bodies, glazed over eyes watching him.

The tears fell then and he cried for Ludwig, for Germany, for the utter devastation that the war had caused and for the guilt inside of himself. He had abandoned everything and joined the side of the Allies, leaving without a single word. But the choice had never been _his_ in the first place. He was Italy before he was Feliciano and his country had been suffering. That didn't stop the guilt from consuming him every single day since he had left his alliance with Germany.

"Ludwig!" Feliciano screamed desperately.

His voice was near hysterical and his throat was raw, the smoke choking him until he could no longer breathe properly. He doubled over and coughed violently, blood dribbling from his lips to land on the ground. Pain racked his body, old wounds from the war flaring to life. Everything hurt. He sucked in the tainted air and released another scream, calling for Ludwig over and over, listening intently for any sort of reply. And then he heard it. It was faint and raspy, but definitely _his _voice. He broke into a run, slipping and stumbling through the rubble and debris.

"Ludwig! I'm here, where are you!?"

"Feli...ciano..."

He abruptly stopped, chest heaving with each painful breath and turned to see his former ally, _his _Ludwig, laying among the ruins of the buildings. His dirt-streaked uniform hung on his thin body, blonde hair unwashed and caked with dried blood. Feliciano had never seen Ludwig so weak and defeated. So terrified.

"Oh Dio...Ludwig," He cried, falling to his knees beside the nation. Feliciano gently cupped his face and wiped away the dirt and blood with his thumb.

"Why are you here? It's not...safe," Ludwig whispered.

"I needed to see you...I had to know that you were okay. Dio, I'm so sorry!"

Ludwig coughed slightly, tears trailing down his face and with the last ounce of his strength, he reached up and pulled Feliciano down closer. He buried his face into the crook of his neck, inhaling the familiar scent and relishing in the feel of his skin.

"You left," He murmured.

"I had no other choice. I didn't want to leave you..._please_, believe me when I say that. I love you, Ludwig," Feliciano spoke quietly, fingers finding his chin and raising his head up until their lips met in the softest of kisses. "I'll never leave you again, unless you send me away."

"No...no...stay. Please...I need you. Just stay," Ludwig said, his deep voice barely above a whisper.

"Alright then. I'll never leave you again, Ludwig. I'm _so_ sorry...I love you."

"I-I love you too, Feliciano. Home...I want to go home now." Ludwig leaned further against Feliciano, hand seeking his and holding it desperately, silently begging him to stay there with him.

Feliciano kissed him again and then shifted around, carefully rising to his feet with Ludwig in his arms. He was so thin now, so fragile. He was too light and Feliciano held him close, mindful not to jerk him in any way that could re-open wounds or cause him more pain. Ludwig was far too tired to protest and allowed himself to be carried away from his demolished city, safe in Feliciano's arms.

"Ludwig, it's okay to go to sleep now. I'll take you home," Feliciano said.

"Will you stay...?" Ludwig asked softly. He stared up at the dark sky, debris and ash falling around them like snowflakes. The gunfire and explosions had lessened, drifted away with the screams and shouts. The country was in ruins but somehow, everything would be alright again. They both knew that much. It was quieter now and the tiniest sense of peacefulness washed over Ludwig as he clung to the warmth of Feliciano, closing his eyes and allowing sleep to consume him but not before he caught the Italian's words.

"Of course. I'll always stay with you, Ludwig."

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**_The End._**


End file.
